


Hindsight

by sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Post-Episode: s01e06 FZZT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Goes AU after 1x06. Skye and Jemma are celebrating her survival at a bar when Jemma catches sight of something she just has to have.Beta'd by Gort.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 24
Kudos: 78





	Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

> _a/n: from the anon prompt “I’m sure i can get some kind of sexual gratification just from staring at him if i try hard enough”?_

Jemma knew she’d had one too many drinks, but they tasted so good, and it wasn’t very often you tumbled out of a plane on purpose, got saved, picked up by a rickety fishing boat, and then sat down at a tiny table by your new friend in a seaside bar in Morocco.

Skye clinked her glass against Jemma’s. “To, um…getting laid or something,” she said, then giggled.

Jemma laughed as well, though damn, she really would like to get off. She recognized it was a jumbled mess of emotions following her brush with death making her desperately want a non-self-induced orgasm, but she could suppress the growing desire. Rough hands, strong, masculine hands stroking between her thighs, and body hair. She wanted to rub her face against lovely, sandy-brown, crinkly chest hair.

“I so want to get laid,” she informed Skye.

Skye waved at the crowded bar. “Take your pick,” she said. “I’m sure there’s a backroom or something.”

Jemma sipped her fruity drink with its strong flavor of fresh strawberries as she let her eyes wander over the people leaning against the bar. They chatted, in Arabic, French, and English, but she couldn’t pick out any individual voices. There were lots of broad shoulders, heads of dark hair, narrow hips. Standing out from them was a man with his back to her, his head was dropped forward, but she wasn’t worried about his face, not when he had an arse like that.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered before taking a large mouthful of her drink. The alcohol burn did nothing to slow down the heat gathering low in her belly. She could feel the arousal slicking her sex. It made her wiggle in her chair, trying to get some relief.

Skye grinned. “Looks like we have a winner.”

“Fabulous arse,” Jemma confirmed. “Tight, nicely shaped in his slacks, I want to hold onto it while he’s thrusting into me. And lick it.” Her toes curled.

“Jemma!” Skye said, mock scandalized. “Where’s the prim and proper scientist?”

“She wants to get ahold of that arse.”

“Huh,” Skye said, swaying and squinting at her. “Never really pegged you for being that into a dude’s rear.”

“Oh!” she gasped. “Do you think he’d like to be—”

“Don’t finish that, and maybe you should, like talk to him first before you decide that one for him.”

Jemma could feel her lower lip working its way out into a pout. She eyed the man’s perfect, lovely, biteable arse. “I’m sure I can get some kind of sexual gratification just from staring at him if I try hard enough.” She squeezed her legs together and rocked against the hard seat of her chair.

Skye rolled her eyes. “Which guy is the one with this paragon of a behind?”

“Don’t look like you’re looking,” Jemma whispered as she stared. “And he’s about the middle of the bar, back to us, one knee bent, with dark trousers.” Jemma sighed. “He’s so…yummy.”

Skye held her drink in front of her face before turning towards the bar. Her head tilted to the side, and then she twisted back towards Jemma. “Ah…you realize that’s Fitz, right?”

Jemma squealed in delight. “Is it? That makes this so much easier!” She knew him, they’d have things to talk about. He’d totally helped save her earlier.

“Easier?”

“He has pretty eyes!” Jemma felt like she was tumbling through the air again. How perfect, and how did she not know her best friend had the sexiest arse?

“Jemma,” Skye started, but she’d already chugged the rest of her drink and was stumbling to her feet.

“I already like him,” Jemma assured Skye. Straightening her spine, Jemma marched across the bar, ignoring how her feet tried to stick to the floor and grabbed Fitz’s arse with both hands. It fit perfectly against her palms.

“Hey!” he grumbled before spinning around. He didn’t look too sober, either. “Simmons?”

“I want your arse,” she said firmly, attempting to reach around him to get her hands on him again.

Fitz grabbed her wrists and blinked, blurry-eyed, at her. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

“Can I have your boobs?”

“Yes! What a brilliant idea!”

“Tomorrow,” Skye said, suddenly between them. “After you both sleep this off.”

Jemma whined. “No, I want him! I had a very hard day and I deserve his arse.”

“She did have a bad day,” Fitz confirmed, as loyal as ever. “I will gladly let her have any part of me that makes her feel better.” He was the sweetest, bestest man ever.

Skye sighed, loudly. “Coulson better give me hazard pay for this.” She grabbed both Jemma and Fitz by the shoulder and pushed them towards the exit.

Jemma let her, not wanting to argue since they were heading back to the Bus. “I like how you say calculus,” she told Fitz.

His eyes met hers. “Calculus.”

She shivered. “Say it again.”

Skye heaved another huge sigh.

#

Jemma blinked her eyes open. Or tried to, the left was a little gummy. She felt like hordes of elephants were tap dancing in her head, and the last thing she remembered was Skye herding her and Fitz out of the bar.

Oh dear, she’d been quite pissed, and acted rather silly over Fitz.

There was an incoherent _mmrph_ from beside her, and Jemma abruptly realized that she wasn’t alone. She got both eyes open. Fitz and she were tangled together in his bunk, both thankfully fully clothed. He had his hand under her shirt, grabbing one breast over her bra, and—bollocks—she had a hand on his arse.

Fitz yawned and cracked open an eye. “Morning, Simmons.”

“Good morning.” Neither of them moved. “We were smashed last night, weren’t we?” she said, voice soft in case Fitz felt as rough as she did. “What’s the last thing you remember? I’ve got nothing after we left the bar.”

Fitz gave her a lopsided grin. “The last thing I remember is lying down in here and snuggling while you attempted to compose a poem about my backside. You were having a devil of a time coming up with anything that rhymes with arse.”

She groaned and pressed her face against his chest. “I don’t suppose you’ll forget me making a ninny of myself?”

“Sorry, but no.” He gave her tit a little squeeze. His voice became serious. “Don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend there isn’t something between us.”

“I don’t either, but it might be a good idea for us to stand upright, brush our teeth, and drink a large amount of water while talking about this.”

“I could have lost you yesterday,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “If—” He paused and she could feel him swallow. “If you think of me as more than a friend, I…you’re everything to me.”

“Oh.” She patted his rear. “I wanted…I wanted the last thing I saw to be you, so, um…I think we have something to explore together.”

“Then let’s brush our teeth. Something crawled into my mouth and died.”

“My tongue is fuzzy.”

They both laughed, letting go of each other’s bits to wrap their arms around one another.

“You have a nice arse,” she said against his chest.

“So you’ve told me more than once, Simmons.”


End file.
